


Charity

by anoyo



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-12-03
Updated: 2008-12-03
Packaged: 2017-10-03 05:44:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anoyo/pseuds/anoyo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Killua remembers the first time he met Gon.  While his impression of Gon hasn't changed all that much over time, he does marvel at how he has changed, simply by being around Gon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Charity

**Author's Note:**

> Day three for my 25 Days of Christmas challenge! Really, I owe [Julian](http://mujakinotsubasa.livejournal.com) this fic from, like, April, when she drew Mildmay for me to use for icons. XD! She requested Hunter X Hunter and Gon and Killua, and so I said I'd write it. And, uh, I FINALLY DID. ILU. Beta'd by [Zanzou](http://zanzou-chan.livejournal.com), even though she doesn't know the fandom. ♥Written for [Julian](http://mujakinotsubasa.livejournal.com), who requested Gon &amp; Killua genfic-ness. Originally posted [here](http://anoyo.livejournal.com/128935.html).

Killua remembers first meeting Gon. He remembers his first impression, that the boy was a naïve idiot, and he remembers how quickly that impression changed to one of amused interest, and then sped along into an absolute, amused liking. Gon wasn't a hard person to like, really, anyone would tell you that; he was a vibrant, optimistic kid with either the Devil's luck or a lot of really humble skill. He wasn't full of himself, and he wasn't professionally trained, but rather he had an innate ability to understand people and what it took to befriend them, or beat them.

His instincts were uncanny, though Killua had doubted that at first, too. After all, who would immediately trust someone as mysterious and obviously dangerous as Killua himself? But Gon proved, again and again, that his assessment of Killua's character was even more accurate than Killua's own assessment. His immediate fear of Hisoka only furthered Killua's respect for Gon's instincts.

Killua knew that in an assessment of sheer skill, he would be the victor, but he had doubts about who would win a real, head-to-head fight between himself and Gon. Skill, training, and upbringing were one thing, but natural ability was another, and Gon's natural ability was far beyond that of most masters. He wasn't the fastest, or the strongest, or the quickest on his feet, but when it came down to it, he accomplished his goals. Killua had an even greater respect for him for that than for his instincts.

In the beginning, Killua had believed that these things, Gon's instinct, skill, and vibrantly amusing personality were what tied him to the other boy. He was useful, good to have around, a good partner in a fight, and someone you'd want to have with you rather than against you.

But then, something changed. Killua didn't know exactly when, though he thought it might have been when Gon, Leorio, and Kurapica had come to retrieve him from his family home, and impressed his father enough to support said retrieval. That was probably it, but at the same time, Killua thought it might have been before that. His going along with Gon, that choice, might have been made because those feelings had changed before he'd even had a chance to see them change.

There was friendship, yes; a close friendship that Killua wouldn't change for the world. Conversations while fishing, simple chatter about bugs, and fish, and toys they'd played with as children.

There was a familial love, dawned when Gon had invited him in, taken him home, and his family had adopted him immediately. Killua felt more protective of Gon in a familial manner than he ever had for one of his true siblings, though some of that he could equate to his siblings not actually requiring his help in a protective manner.

And then there was something else. Something Killua didn't know, didn't understand. He associated it with what his parents and the grown-ups around him always used to say, "You'll understand when you're older, when you need to know." He felt something that made him think of this, though he didn't know what, and it caused him to do things he would not ordinarily have done.

As Killua lay awake, hands propping up his head as he listened to Gon's soft breathing next to him in the bed they were still small enough to share, he was acutely aware of Gon's optimistic, loving nature. Take, for instance, today's fight. While traveling, they had been accosted by a band of thieves. Cliché, Killua believed, but true. Among the thieves, there had been one man unlike the rest, who didn't seem to want any of their possessions, but rather simply wanted to fight them.

To kill them.

Gon had done the right thing, of course, and subdued the thieves, alerting the authorities of the area. That man, however, had escaped. It was that man's presence that was keeping Killua awake now, restless. He knew men like that, men that merely thirsted after the next fight like some thirsted for the next swig of alcohol. He and Gon were a challenge, something the man could truly feast in, and it made Killua uncomfortable. Letting the man escape had been Gon's idea.

"If he's running away, then hopefully he won't bother anyone else. He learned his lesson," Gon had said, smiling that childish smile as they lugged the thieves into the village they'd just robbed and turned them over.

Killua had wanted to say, "No, Gon, he hasn't. He'll just join another group, go around thieving, and when he finds the right challenge, someone will die."

Ordinarily, Killua wouldn't care. If the man killed someone, and it wasn't him, it wasn't his problem. He didn't need to take care of it, it didn't involve him. But Gon, his best friend, innocent and honest, seemed to have rubbed off on him. Killua couldn't simply allow the man to kill anyone when he could have stopped him.

Rather, when he could kill him, and cease his murdering forever.

Gon didn't awake when Killua slid out of bed, slid into his clothes, and ghosted out of the room. Neither did he stir when Killua returned, an hour later, rigid and exhausted, mentally more than physically. He continued to lie still, breathing evenly, blankets half thrown off his body.

Killua considered the change Gon had made in him; such a profound change that Killua cared about a man killing people he had never met, and would probably never come across. He cared so much that the mere idea, farfetched as it was, that the man might find the challenge in Gon and Killua interesting enough to come back after them, and that Gon might be hurt, gave him physical pain.

He cared so much that he had ghosted away, in the middle of the night, to kill a man that Gon had been too kind-hearted to deal with. To take care of a mess his best friend had made with well-meaning.

The bedsprings creaked only nominally as Killua slipped back into bed, covering himself and turning to look at Gon for a moment, peaceful and beautiful in his childlike integrity. He closed his eyes, willing away the memories of death.

A hand softly clasped his, warm and intermittently calloused and child-soft. Killua didn't need to open his eyes to see the warm, awake smile that Gon was giving him, nor the somewhat sad and pitying air that it had.

He didn't need to open his eyes to feel the pang in his chest, a pang he had long since begun associating with that feeling he couldn't place.

It only took him seconds to fall asleep, safe, comfortable, and free.


End file.
